Remembering Neville
by Liefe Black
Summary: With some new therapies, a certain St Mungos patient remembers a very important person...


**A/N: Hello all! I know I haven't updated my other stories in a while, but this has been kicking around on my computer for a while, so I took it out, and brushed it up, and I'm giving it to you with a ribbon on it! Tell me what you think of all the emotional mother/son stuff – I don't think I'm very good at writing it . . . .**

**BTW – I don't own Harry Potter **

**Remembering Neville**

Alice had been making steady progress. Dr Richards told her that her body was controlling her mind in an attempt to protect itself, but that she had to retake control. That was the first thing they had worked on. As she relearned, or as Dr Richards said 'remembered' how to do simple tasks, he had asked her to write down her daily experiences, and encouraged her to pay special attention to her memories. Despite this, Alice hadn't remembered much until yesterday, when she'd made a major breakthrough.

"I have a son." She said to the doctor, silently challenging him to contradict her. "Do you?" He responded, throwing a cautious look over her shoulder.

"Yes, but-" She cut off, twisting around in her chair, to see what Dr Richards was looking at. There was a boy in the doorway, who refused to meet her eyes. Cocking her head she examined him. He looked to be about fifteen, with a round face, dark slightly wavy hair -like Frank's, her mind had supplied- and when he risked a glance at her, she glimpsed a wild hope blossoming in his blue eyes. He opened his mouth to say something when she turned back to Dr Richards.

"Why didn't you tell me you had someone coming?" Standing up, she walked towards the door, tossing the words over her shoulder. "I'll come back later, Doctor. Sorry for disturbing you, dear." She slipped past the boy -so familiar, where had she seen him before?- and into the hall. Only hours later, while rereading her journal, she realized that he was the boy who always came to visit her.

Suddenly realizing that she didn't know what year it was, she sat up and called for the nurse.

"Nurse Hodgkins?"

"Yes Alice? Is there anything I can help you with?" Nurse Hodgkin came bustling into the room, smiling gently.

"Yes, there is, actually. Could you tell me what year it is?"

"Of course. Its 1996."

"Thank you." Alice said, sinking back on the pillows. 1996. The last she remembered was November 12th, 1981. Almost two weeks after her best friends were killed by Voldemort, and their baby, little Harry, had defeated the Dark Lord. It had been nearly fifteen years since she had seen him, or her own son, her Neville. Alice lost herself in the few memories she had of him. A giggly little boy, with -and with dawning shock Alice realized- plump, round cheeks, slightly wavy dark brown hair and blue eyes, just like those of the boy in Dr Richards doorway. Was it possible, that mere hours ago, she had walked past her Neville, and not even realized? And that would explain why he had always visited her, her and Frank, who lay in a bed to her left. Oh god, but if he was her son, she had to find him, _now._ She got out of bed, hands shaking as she pulled on the rode sitting on the chair next to her bed. How many times had Neville sat on that chair, and she had looked past him, not seeing him, never acknowledging him? Oh, how that must of hurt him. Hurrying out of the ward, Alice realized that she had no idea where to look for her son. Because she was convinced that this was her son. The ward was on the top floor, so Alice supposed that she could simply work her way down to the ground floor, and if he was in St. Mungos, she would find him. However, as she rushed past the nurses' station at the end of the hall, Nurse Hodgkin called out to her.

"Alice, dear? Wherever are you going?"

"I- I have to, to find him - find Neville..." Alice had stuttered. The nurse's eyes widened with shock.

"You, you remember Neville?"

"Yes, yes, my son, but I don't know where to look for him-"

"Shh, Alice. If I were you, I'd try the lounge on the sixth floor, in the back corner, that's where he goes when he's upset." Nurse Hodgkin said confidentially.

"The lounge on the sixth floor?" Alice turned and almost ran for the stairs. Panting she burst into the lounge. Coming to a halt in the center of the room, she looked toward the back corner. And there he was. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and he was resting his forehead against them looking at him, she saw teenaged Frank in his broadening shoulders, herself in his pale skin. She hardly noticed herself moving over to him. She sat down slowly next to him on the plush couch. Feeling it move beneath him, he looked up, mouth dropping open as he took her in.

"Mu- Alice! Wh-what are you doing here?" Her hand touched his cheek, and his pupils widened in shock.

"I thought I'd come see my favorite visitor. And anyways, isn't a woman allowed to see her son anymore?" Alice teased gently

"You don't know what you're talking about, Alice!" Neville shook his head wildly, refusing to look at his mother.

"Mum, Nev. You're supposed to call me Mum." Alice said, insistently. He shook his head and half-turned away from her.

"This is just another dream. My parents are never gonna remember. And soon I'll wake up, and this'll just be proof that they're never coming back."

"Oh, Neville. My little Neville..." The expression on his face became heartrendingly fragile.

"You can't be... I'm just making you up and, and..." He began sobbing brokenly, and she pulled him against her side and hummed soothingly. Oh, the number of times she had hummed this to baby Neville, as he lay in her arms, drifting asleep...Neville cried himself to the point between sleep and waking, a feeling of deep peace and unconditional love fill him. Not a loud and flashy sort of thing, but an undercurrent that lulled him as he drifted asleep in his mum's arms for the first time in fifteen years.


End file.
